


Tinted in red: A guide to the criminal world

by Apollo (Apollo_13)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Celebrities, Conflict, Crimes & Criminals, Drama, Economics, F/M, Family Bonding, Family Drama, Family Issues, Family Secrets, Gangs, Military Families, Minor Character Death, Modern Era, Multi, Murder Mystery, Murder-Suicide, Mystery, Organized Crime, Original Character(s), Other, POV First Person, Politics, Psychology, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:46:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23174158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apollo_13/pseuds/Apollo
Summary: ¨We are alike, we never liked the calmness, we always seek chaos, do you know why? because we easily get bored¨Several persons, unique families, and a lot of hidden secrets…A new messed up world, full of lies, fears, and death…Follow a senior law student Kiran Mccarthy who is trying very hard to live a seemingly normal life and the new events that threaten to expose him and his family…With …August Olvera, the prodigy and one of the heirs to the wealthy Olvera family that holds an exclusive privilege to Exports and imports for more than three generations…And…Milford Macias, Donny Tovar, Emery Cromwell and their bloody fight to control the underworld.¨you can never escape this reality… you can never find the bliss¨





	1. CHAPTER ONE: DEPARTURE

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, the author is here...  
> Since I am focusing on my first novel, this will be slowly updated.  
> Sorry for the inconvenient, but I hope that you like it.

Fate is ever changeable, unpredictable. That day when I collected my things, I never guessed the mess it stored for me.

At the end of the first university semester, after the long hours of intensive studying, I longed for my first return home, for my first visit to my family. The slight bickering with my siblings, the warm banter. The face of my parents. And the tender smile of my grandmother.

The yearning ate at my heart. The sudden separation ravaged all the reasons that caused my absence. As if those couple of months were a trip to the netherworld. Yet I couldn't accept the defeat. In this period, I never tasted the flavor of comfort or the pleasure of rest, always studying to succeed.

My girlfriend Anna, I informed her about my desire to take her with me, to introduce her to my family, but sadly the illness that her father suddenly discovered, played a part in her decision to not travel the long-distance and to stay beside him.

Anna Marchetti, the slender young girl with smiley lips, a long brown air, and a face painted with inharmonious freckles. I knew her before my first time coming into this city. Haphazardly, our friendship began years ago. Who could think an old-fashioned letter exchange will foster a long relationship?

She has grown up to become one of the most charming women I had the chance to talk to.

A nice old Victorian house was her home, near the campus. My frequent visits to her home sustained my unbearable homesickness, charged my soul with determination. It gave me the power to resist the drama of another day. Spending some time away from the university's up and downs life turned a blessing hard to come by.

A few months ago, we started to get close. Since my arrival, since seeing her face for the first time. The big city never felt foreign. Then things developed rapidly, and now we are officially going out.

I stood in the railway station, checking my luggage, preparing the ticket, the time of my expected tripe approached near. Suddenly, Someone startled me from behind, wrapped arms circled my torso, tightly hugged my back. The sensation was familiar. When I turned back, I guessed right. It was the frail figure of Anna that greeted my eyes.

Accompanied by her ten-year-old brother, Liam looked exactly like his older sister, a tiny child version of her. The freckles light and brownish sealed their blood kinship.

Intensely observing her face, I could see the redness surrounding her eyes, the trace of tears rendered her visage shyer. The impression that she was crying all night, the only thing my logic worked up.

My breath halted at the entrance of my lungs. A sort of pity sipped into my chest, I felt my heart filled up with some kind of tenderness, at the same time, a load of appreciation for her will.

I knew her… and I knew how strong she is… I also know how hard the situation was. Not only on her but all her family…

From the moment the reality slapped her face, I was there; I stood beside her. Right now, she needed some time alone with her family… and I respect that.

In a failed attempted to seem fine, the intensity of her hug tightened, the force of her feeling transpired through the contact. Nevertheless, for her, it wasn't enough unless she poured me with hot bouquets of farewells and kisses. Demanding with a melodic voice, to deliver to my family, the same kind of hot bouquets of greetings and tributes instead of her.

The truth was: she never met my family; She didn't know who they were? All for the sake of my personnel selfish reasons. In contrast, my family also oblivious to her existence.

Actually, my family was oblivious to a lot of things that concerned me. Only the keeper of my secrets, the bearer of my egocentrism, my elder sister, aware of many things of my private matters. About where I am, About the major, I chose, About Anna. though not about us going out.

My elder sister and Anna got the chance to meet, just for one time. Anna accompanied me to receive her at the airport. It was long ago when I was new to the city and did not precisely could find my way around the streets.

At that time Anna was my savior, an angel descended to guide my step and help in my installation. A blessing was to have someone like Anna, in one of the biggest cities, in a place that you don't know anything about. Where you have no support...

The bell rung, its sound reverberated. The next moment, the train started its long trip. To the far east, I was heading.

Searching for my cabin, the shaking toyed with my balance. And here there the door. I chose a seat near the window after carefully placing my luggage.

the city sceneries cascaded faster and faster, I closed my eyes for relief, waiting for the sensation of the rhythmic movements of the train to flow within my body.

Yet somehow I recalled all the scenes of our goodbye, how emotional it was, despite that my visit to my hometown wasn't going to take long. We were saying farewell like we are never going to see each other again.

I opened my eyes, looking at the glass of the window. I could see the reflection of the fainted profile of my two companions when they entered.

***

The same way I came to this big city, the same way I am returning to my hometown. After a long absence… I don't know how to describe my yearning. A lot of things had changed, I have changed, as a person… and as a man…

My relationship with my father… wasn't the best. It has its ups and downs. We had, and we still probably will have plenty of differences, in ideas, in the style that we see and understand the world, but my stay in a different environment, I came to appreciate even to such a small extent my father's point of view, and I erased a big deal of my false assumptions on the world and on how it should work.

The success I had achieved in my study was a prize for my own growth and efforts. I decided to bring this happy news of my hard work with me and inform my family of my achievements personally.

Right now, the railway is at its top speed, and in the blink of an eye, I perceived the line that marks the end of the urban area and the beginning of the Grassland with its winter white dress that has started to melt. It was very long since I took the time to appreciate the natural beauty of the earth without the disturbance of the filthy hands of humans. This scene always made me lose contact with my reality. How much I wished that I could show this majestic spectacle to Anna, even in a set of pictures…

I was never good at socializing, neither I was a smooth talker, and it seemed that my two companions were very much like me. They hadn't spoken a word since the moment they have entered the cabin. Honestly, I was glad for that because they looked exactly like the type of people that I would pretend that I didn't see in the street. Yet the glances that they exchange between each other from time to time got me nervous. Like they are hiding something…

After four hours, I got startled by the train whistle as it announced our arrival at the station. It was the time of sunset and the darkness begin to spread bit by bit. And to my amazement, in my town, there was no trace of snowfall, only the frigid wind that pierced through my thick coat when I left the station. The roads were wet and vacuous, giving me the sensation as if I were in a horror movie. Yes, this is my town and how I remember it.

I stood near my luggage waiting for a cab or any carriage to pass, but unfortunately, there was nothing. It was eight PM when I decided to carry my baggage and walk silently in misery. The station wasn't very far from my house, about one hour of walking. Finding my way through empty, silent streets with almost no light was somehow depressing, also the cold wind and my heavy luggage didn't make the trip easy.

But the moment I recognized the twigs of the grape tree that hides the entrance to my house all my weariness vanished.

Oh, home sweet home… I finally have come back.

I promised myself to sleep for 24 hours when I reach my bed…

I stormed toward the old wooden door with the big metal knob, leaving my luggage behind and I knocked using all the force that resided in me without rest just like soldiers who are going to break in.

I caught a small noise behind the door, so I stopped knocking, then I heard a childlike voice asking: "Who is it?..."

I smiled happily, and I thought to myself, "so finally, Fayina is big enough to answer the door,". Trying to not make my voice very high, I told her: "Fayina!... Open the door, this is your big brother."

The one who opened the wooden door wasn't Fayina, The one who opened the door was my mother…

The look of surprise on her face was priceless. It was mixed with longing and a bit of blame. I found myself unconsciously wrapping my arms around her for a deep, long hug.


	2. CHAPTER TWO: NOSTALGIA

Around the house where I had opened my eyes and walked my first steps, shone a special aurora. Maybe due to the fact of his old origin, to the archeological location of the city, or maybe just because it was my childhood house where I let go of the last bits of my innocence. Either way, confident I am, the mysterious force pulling me here to visit again, to come back, no matter how far I go…filling my soul.

Unexpectedly, for the first time in years, the twelve members of the McCarthy family graced the periphery of the dinner table.

As much as it felt strange, as much as made me ecstatic. Before, only the death of my grandfather managed to gather us.

We were eating in such an intimate, lost atmosphere…Dated back to the days of my youth. For the sorrow of life, only my grandfather was missing.

Exchanging the greeting, asking for far placed dishes. Laughing about trivial jokes. The blessings of this dinner gathering will stay with me until the end of my life.

I settled in my old place, next to my grandmother and near the seat of the family's head, which now is my father's. He was indulging himself in a long and detailed scolding of my stupid and selfish behavior, of course, from his standpoint. I won't say that he was totally wrong…

¨From now on you must keep in contact with us, at least with one of your brothers or your sister. And you must inform me before you come back as well.¨ The last sentence of my father's exhaustive scolding. And the sole part that mastered the thick walls of my defense. Certainly for the excessive repetition.  
From the moment his eyes seized me, I swear, he had chewed those words to the point of dullness. My old self will surely make a big faze, but now I understand that this was his way to say indirectly that he was worried about my well-being. How much I missed the extravagant pain of concern after the brutality of the outside world tattooed my fair skin with iron fangs. However, this orchestra has yet to be finished. And the flame handed to my mother to continue the long path:

"From now on I won't accept this careless behavior, I comprehend that you are a capable person who knows how to protect himself, yet wolves always survive in a pack."

Another set of metaphors, the boredom groaned my nerves, yet I listened, those blame were needed, I deserved them. However, I kept the fact that I was in contact with my sister a secret and I made her promise me to keep it a secret from all of my family. Thank you, dear sister, for respecting my selfish wish. I admit that I made you hold a heavy responsibility.

From over the table, I hooked my gaze with her, spending a subtle signal as thanks, and she smiled back at me in the same concealed manner as a response. After a few spoons in her mouth, she tried to help me to change the subject by asking about my studies: "How is college? Kieran."

My father butted in before I could answer: "I hope you didn't drop out…"

I responded with a calm nerve, something new I had developed to confront, not just my father's sarcastic tone: "No, I am a senior now. Actually, I got a few recommendations from my professors. Even more, I was accepted into a firm for an internship."

Preying to check the face of each member around the table. A smug smirk colored my lips. Their reaction topped a priceless gift. A moment I wished for long enough. It was worth the wait, especially my father and older brothers, my sister too. I hadn't told her this happy news.

My father's stupefied lineaments, while trying to hold his astonishment, tickled the shallow egoism in my chest. I watched him as he proceeded to continue the conversation in a failed attempt to conceal his joy: "Which firm?"

"Clangor law group."

"Is it official?"

"Yes."

"Excellent."

Was it a compliment? My jaw dislocated. The blow hit hard.

A compliment from my father? A very straightforward one. I must check if the sky had fallen on the earth, or in her place still.

There were a lot of moments when I felt it was okay to die now. Most of them were out of embarrassment, rarely those for joy, and this is one of them.

"Any girl in your life?" My sister Evelyn asked again, her voice mixed with the glee for my triumph and the irritation over hiding this matter. Yet here she goes again, trying to help me introduce my girlfriend. Was it the superior intuition women are proud of? I shifted my eyes to my mother timidly looked at her, in a low voice I answered:

"Yes."

**** **** ****

In the living room, in that kind of warm evening, we gathered after dinner.

My mother actively supervised the girls in clearing up the table, organizing the leftover. My grandmother retreated to her room.

Next to my father and Alfred, my eldest brother, I squeezed myself on the big sofa. Everyone free at the moment joined in. Like an ancient folk, we recited the trivial life events; how much I missed these assemblies, always loved to listen to other stories and their experience in life and learn from their mistakes.

Also, I wanted to learn all about things and changes that happened during my absence,

All kinds of topics made their way to this conversation, especially about me, as I was the guest of honor, the surprise of the new year: my study, my girlfriend, my brothers' worries and occupations, my sister's fiance, my grandmother's health and all the rumors And the truths about the famous and rich people that lived around here.

Perhaps the most important matter that we have talked about was the Olvera family and their famous son; August Olvera.   
Faking disinterested, I commented: "August Olvera! Ah, yes, I know him. We are on the same campus."

"Well, he is very famous and multi-talented. I believe he speaks several languages, and he is majoring in ancient history or something like that…."  
Whenever my father compliments someone in front of me, I feel like he was accusing me of failure. I did not know why….

I tried to disregard this emotion and followed my father's speech, confirming and denying some of the things he said for facts:" That's right, he knows several languages, precisely four. But he is majoring in finance and economics."

My father commented without arguing: "That's why he is managing his father's works…"

I looked at Alfred's eyes; a persistent habit I nurtured in my childhood, it activates whenever I searched for an answer or a way to respond to my father. Conscious of my pitfall, Alfred took the lead as always: "Yes, I heard that he is managing an operation to import the wool…. Natural wool."

Now, the sense of inferiority won me over, swallowed raw, urged me to speak in defense of my honor: "He is older than me…. I assume that he is in his thirty or so…" Then I followed up, attempting to hide my insecurity: "They have a branch in the city where I am studying now."

Fleeing, I glanced at the Coffee table to steal a biscuit and shove it into my big mouth to disguise my discomfort.

Alfred said, confirming my information and he probably understood this childish behavior of mine:" Yes, they have a branch there, it's relatively new…. And he is a few years older than Kieran."

And just like that, I welcomed the routine of the old days. When I feel conscious of every stupid thing, my father said or will attempt to say, always thinking that he was comparing me to someone whom I think was doing better than me as well as when we fought over stupid gossip - which I believe, it is - and about who was right and who is wrong. However, I never imagined that this stupid conversation and gossip consuming about one of the richest families in our neighborhood was just an introduction to something deeper and important. Something that will change my life, yet another time.

A big error, the one who forgot that my father never indulges himself in trivial rumors was me.

**** **** ****

Following the nostalgic evening, the days passed in apparent peace as in my definition, albeit an ominous calm thickened underneath…a sort of preparation my brothers' efforts engrossed in making. I could feel the atmosphere, but I couldn't make its core.

Hanging on the banner of my ideals; if your big brothers don't want you to know their business, there is a high possibility that it doesn't concern you, it's better for your sanity that you don't know.

How naïve I was…

Until the date of my return to the campus approached, the surprise my father was hiding from me floated to the surface. They say the calmness always hid an unpredictable storm.

An invitation to a dinner in one of the most distinguished and famed hotels.

I took the invitation between my hands, caressing it. Turned it back and forth in every direction, smelling the rich perfume on its corners, dissecting the tiniest details to assure myself it wasn't a prank. Then I commented, wondering:

"What is this? Where did it come from?"

A faint smile rested on my father's answer gave it a taste of amusement: "An invitation to a dinner party."

"Yes, I know that… I mean from whom? Why me?"

"You can read who is the sender yourself."

"No, I know… I mean, why?… why in hell the Olvera sends us an invitation to a dinner party for the engagement of one of her sons?... Why me personally?"

In this secluded, suffocating study room, I observed my father. Leisurely, he sat before a large wooden and very expensive desk. His back was facing the window. And his enigmatic eyes were piercing through me. Telling me to search for an answer on my own.

I tried to avoid his gaze, shifting my eyes toward the wooden, very expensive shelves that were full of old and new books, medals, trophies. Squeezing my brain for a response: "I see…" Courageously, I received his piercing gaze: "Could it be Evelyn's fiance?"

"No." My father was silent for a minute before he followed: "There are three invitations in total, and I have chosen you to come with me and your mother."

Bewildered, I froze in my place, happy, unhappy, proud, intrigued…. A mix of massive emotions that didn't make me sure about my situation. However, all of that disappeared when my father spoke again: "Of course, your sister and her fiance will be there too. Sadly, at a different table."

  
**** **** **** ****

It was cold and dark, an average winter day in my hometown. The sound of rain kicked out the stillness of the night. My father opened the car door to my mother after he opened his umbrella, protecting her from getting wet.

Two hands embarrassed each other, in a transient moment of care and warmth. Those small gestures of heed nurtured the roots of our family in my grandmother's reflection.

My mother, wearing her cashmere coat and a pearl necklace descended, stood by my father's under the same umbrella. A scene out of a movie made them ten years younger in my eyes. Observing them together like that sipped absurd thoughts into my mind. Aren't we just like a normal, happy family? A wild smile defeated my tense lips before I gave the keys to the concierge and followed behind them.


	3. CHAPTER THREE: INVITATION

Proceeding to the great hall, the artificial light, the reflection, the glittering crystals like-decoration numbed my vision. A peasant walked into a castle by mistake, I assessed my place. The Olvera deserved their reputation. I always thought my home luxurious. Yet this hall stood at another level.

Trailing behind my parents, I made sure to stay as far as near as the etiquettes permitted the presence of a third wheel. About three meters away, a perfect distance to grasp my embarrassment in an out of habit place.

I watched them, and all the people that approached them.

Noting the degree of my ignorance. All those relatively powerful people buttering up to my parents. There must have been a huge development when I was away.

Feigning indifference, carrying the air of shallow interest. I recognized half of the advancers. Those hypocrites, superficial folk. They care about their appearance more than anything else in the world.

Yet, my father's objective, still an enigma, a puzzle from a higher dimension. Figuring it out, a task that perished the bits of joy and hate budded from this invitation.

Why did he choose me to accompany him? Why me? Why not Alfred Or Jacob Or any other person who had more merit and experience?

In this kind of situation, my anti-sociable nature proved far crippling than I ought it to be. Like a painting hung on the wall of forgetfulness, my eyes roamed in the big hall.

The varied flavor of individuals greeted each other. Exchanged pleasantries in effortless manners.

Envy clapped my heart. How much I hated my disability to initiate human interactions.

However, it made me a renowned observer of humanity. Watching their interactions, witnessing their exchanges. The hypocrisy washed their faces. The fake smiles… The deceiving eyes, full of lies. I asked myself; what kind of person should I pretend to be to deal with them?

It didn't take long for my parents to get sucked up into this abyss of duplicity. Perfectly matching the rapidly changing colors of all those high-level kinds of people.

I remembered an argument I had with my father long ago; This is life whether you accept it or not. You should learn the art of wearing makeup…

The glittering light of my mother's pearl necklace, my father's black tuxedo thinned under my gaze. To be honest, I was too ashamed to follow them like a little kid. So I decided to wander around searching for Evelyn and her fiancée to merge a little bit with this crowd.

From afar, there, I spotted her with a man I have never met in person, her fiancée…

Emery Cromwell… An individual whom I only knew threw letters sent by my sister.

Her description turned him into some mythical hero, born from the ash of suffering, and climbed the ladder to prosperity.

What was my first impression of this legendary knight charming?

He had the charm that attracted women into his orbit.

What kind of person he was?

Only through close interactions, I can judge his character.

Next to him, the happiness flared around my sister. Laughing, giggling while holding onto his arm. I stopped right away, my endeavor to approach them.

Seeing her acting like this, for some reason it froze my entire body.

She was in my memories always the reliable, serious, caring person, the one I confided all my secrets to, and there she is… Showing me an obscure side of her I never saw before.

Next to this man, she looked more like Fayina, just a little girl. Joking and smiling without care of this world.

Retreating to my destined place as a lonely painting hung on a remote wall, I noticed the press making their entrance. A legion of bodyguards stood between them and the object of their scope. The photographers raced to steal good shots of the main stars of this evening.

Amazed at the big commotion:¨ the famous Olvera family or I should say the famous August Olvera, father, you really like making me work my brain. What is the reason behind this evening?"

The food was being served. Finally, the part I waited for came.

Our round table's position, a strategic one, I could observe most of the invited by a simple look.

Eagerly counting the remaining seconds after I took a place. The sight next to me rendered my mind blank.

Alongside my left, the prestigious member of the Olvera family had sat. Mechanically, my gaze shifted, blowing glares hit at my father's spot.

Was this position a hint?

Fearing exposure, my eyes wandered away in a manner indicating a load of questions that needed to be answered.

The invitation, the proximity with the Olvera... What's the meaning of this? Father, On what strings were you playing…

The habits of the McCarthy current head.. . Bad? … Good?… I can't decide anymore.

I found it rather sneaky, not far different from the people I despised.

He always calculates all affairs by himself, then he throws me suddenly in the middle of it, using his famous argument: "I am only educating you¨. I wonder if Alfred or Evelyn gets the same kind of education?

Seemed, In this educating session, like a forsaken prisoner, I was thrown into a desert, only by finding the road, I will succeed in the test.

Asking him direct questions, wishing for clear answers, a mere waste of time. Was this his payback for wandering alone outside the family influence zone while not contacting him?

My whole attention hammered the table next to me. Where the Olvera family members sat.

Intensely staring, if my eyes emitted laser, they would be burned by now. Thanks to their arrogance, they didn't waste a side glance towards my direction.

The head family, I recognized him just by the cheer of the glorifying aurora he transmitted.

Two of his children presented at the same table. I could taste the blood aroma they shared. The oldest of them was August Olvera, the next apparent heir. While the second one, not as famous as his brother. I had heard that he was the son of his third wife.

I didn't know the other individuals that accompanied the Olvera? Their allies, close friends.. . Two of them appeared familiar in my memory. Grey-beard old men, maybe in their sixty. The radiated foxy smiles matched the oily atmosphere. Powerful the charm they spread out.

Yet I couldn't remember who they were exactly.

The hunger snapped away from the deep reflection I offered to decipher the nature of a powerful personage.

It shifted my focus to something simpler, colorful, and more satisfying.

It felt like ages since my nose greeted the wild aroma of fine food. Stimulating my gut, a silent cry reached my hand to take the first try.

The luxury of varied foods left my fingers in disarray. Which dish should I start with first?

For ages felt my sorrow since I enjoyed eating without restriction. Goodbye, my mother's strict healthy food policy, goodbye to my empty pockets, at least for today.

The life of a university student is very hard, especially if he decided to depend on himself.

I encouraged myself deep in my heart, "Screw everything… The invitation, my father's objective, the Olvera, August Olvera. Even my mother glares from the side. Who cares… The most important thing now is to eat and eat and enjoy every present variety of this fine food."

The plate in front of me was full, my mouth was full. When I reached the glass, I got startled by my father's voice whispering in my ear, advising me to carefully oversee the upcoming events.

Little he knew about the decision I have already made. However, out of respect, out of fear, I was obligated to perform the tips of interest.

Unable to withstand the look of resentment that colored my face. I mumbled my apparent irritation between my lips. What luck…

Soon the reason behind this extravagant evening got revealed.

Hot and loud, applauds shook the hall. The light of the cameras blinded my visual perception.

Cheers had yet to stop after the brief introduction of the soon to be the bride of the enigmatic genius, the next head of the Olvera corporation; August Olvera.

A long line formed as quickly as the flying flies, the congratulators surrounded their table.

Marriage in rich families like a marriage in nobilities. A form to establish alliances, to strengthen wealth.

Oh, then the only woman that sat around that table was his fiancée.

If I could describe her, she was a real beauty, a long black hair slid behind her back, blue, sparkling eyes. The alluring red dress she wore accentuates her glamor.

When she stood waving her right hand to all the guests after the revelation. Her other hand was locked into one of the old men that I didn't recognize…

I guessed two things.

That old man was her father.

And she wasn't close to August at all.

Their marriage announcement must have been decided by their parents.

Throwing a side look to the star of this evening. At the rear of his fake smiles and the intense handshaking. I savored his dangling unhappiness.

A quick sigh escaped my chest, I remember this jerk promiscuous conduct in the university. He had a lot of girls posing for his attention. I bet he never understood or educated himself about the meaning of the word commitment… or about the responsibilities of marriage.

I wasted a few more glances at the very much happy to be bride… How much I pity her… Then I jumped back to my feast.

*** * ***

After the departure of the press, the atmosphere turned calmer. Some important guests left the hall. But August Olvera and the other older man stayed in. While his father, the father of the future bride and the bride herself left.

The incoming torrent of congratulations had yet to dry.

Some meaningless chatting forcefully made its way to my ears.

Except for us, the McCarthy, the remaining other figures weren't considered as powerful as the ones that left. Then it arrived at the moment that caused me to choke.

My father, accompanied by my mother, addressed the direction towards the star of the evening. At first, I didn't give it much thought. It struck me as part of proper etiquette.

Yet, following a deeper reflection and much complex analysis, my brain finally beat my stomach. From the saliva stimulating dishes, I tore my eyes away. The spoon that was half dug into my throat moved out.

Only one question begged my mind for an explanation. Why did father choose this time to offer his congregation? Was he waiting for the path to clear?

Of course not… Rather. He was waiting for the current head of the Olvera departure.

The water glass placed in my right as I emptied it, though my thirst blazed.

Letting myself submitted under the flame of curiosity. The exotic turbulent of the high society that I have forgotten rocked my internal peace. Far from the simplicity of the campus life that became a part of my daily routine, I have entered the abyss, more accurately I have returned to my reality, once I heard my mother's voice calling my name to introduce me to those renowned gentlemen.

Slowly, I pushed up my stuffed body. My eyes swallowed each inch that fell in their field. The food stuck at the entrance of my stomach when I witnessed my father sitting beside August Olvera, just like he was one of his close friends.

A cluster of different subjects they talked about. My walk decelerated further to digest, better, the situation.

I watched as my mother joined the conversation line and the big genius answered her inquiries like a student who eagerly wanted his teacher to be proud.

However, the aghast me only heard bunches of murmurs that didn't form a coherent meaning.

Since I reached the table, I concentrated more on gulping what was in my mouth in fear embarrassing not just my parents. Replying with a gorged mouth in front of this man. An insult I will never erase. Who knows, maybe he will also advertise it at the campus too.

"What are you working on now?"

My father asked while his attention concentrates on me, observing me with the corner of his eyes. Standing, I halted. The hidden message translated well in my head.

Inappropriate was my position while I found it more inappropriate to borrow a chair from a nearby table and squeeze my body between all those important people. So I kept still, like a counterfeit bodyguard. My gaze sought August. Eagerly, I waited for August's reply:

"Well, I am majoring in finance and economics. I want to graduate with honor before I officially get a post in my grandfather's company."

Oh, he said, "My grandfather's company."

The old man stood and called for me, offering his place. In a polite rejection,

I waved with my hand, indicating that he didn't need to give me his seat. Simultaneously, I hurried to search around near other tables for a vacant chair.

But the older man insisted, and I found myself embarrassed to affirm my refusal.

Only needed one glare from my mother before I shut my mouth, took his place, then passively participate in the conversation.

my father, also, indirectly frowned at me with half face and smiled at August with the other half.

Am I spoiling some plan?

What has appeared to be a shallow conversation, has resumed...

Mr. great babbling about his varied talents:

"Before, I planned to major in translation and literature. But I changed my mind at the last minute."

"Yes, I heard that you mastered English, French, Spanish…"

"And Dutch, but I can't say that I really mastered this one."

My head rested on my hand, the drowsiness conquered my eyelashes. The purpose of them calling out for my presence fused.

By now, I hardly listened. My father mastered the art of slapping me awake to the subject. He said:

"To be honest, I want to invest in the import and export business. But as you know, our laws don't allow people affiliated with the military to have any activities outside of the army corps."

The blood rushed into my head, making me awake after I dozed off due to the boredom, and a strike of realization of my father's objective in bringing me here hit my mind like a lightning. I corrected my posture by straightening my back and holding my chin in a lower position to not seem very eager.

"Of course, dear general, you can count on us."

The old man who returned with a chair responded quickly, attempting to surpass the unpleasant face August has made, or so I thought.

My father responded with a wide smile. Even a blind one can tell that it was fake and just for courtesy.

I stole a few glimpses to see the reaction on my mother's face. She mirrored the same fake smile my old man gave. I observed August perceive if his reaction has changed. I didn't understand why he was looking down at the empty plates. He then extended his arm to hold the glass of water and quaff it in one go.

*** * ***

The whole hall trembled under my feet.

In a split second, I could exactly decipher what happened.

Coming from outside, the sound of gunshots followed the earth-shaking. My father assured my mother's safety while I assured the other two.

Screams and cries contributed to the severity of commotion.

The bodyguards intensified their presence and surrounded the periphery of the hall. My father gripped my shoulder and hissed in my ear: "Take your mother away."

Then he stormed toward the entrance of the hall alone.

I shifted position next to my mother, holding her hand, demanding to stay beside me no matter what. While I searched with my eyes in the middle of the chaos for the whereabouts of my sister and her fiancée.

A bodyguard approached us: "Please Madam this way…"

I shielded her, making her stand behind me, and asked him: "What's going on? What caused this explosion? Why had I heard the sound of gun shooting?"


	4. CHAPTER FOUR: RESOLVE

In the realm of haze, I lost my way. In a trance state, my consciousness locked up. The road to home never felt capricious.

Accompanied by my mother, we left the dangerous site after the end of the primary investigation.

The combustive dinner party ended, leaving my brain suffocated under the ash.

The harsh order my father whispered in my ears, still biting the bottom of my perception.

As startled as I was, his voice carried the savor of someone whose cooking went against his expectations. In a bad way… In a good way… I couldn't guess.

The key was thrown at my hands, while his back faded towards the flickering light of security services.

Thankfully, our car escaped the damage.

I glared at the surging gray smoke, the debris, then at the panicked guests. The wounded individuals weren't many. The place stormed with the police agents, but the safety of my mother topped the list of my priorities. Especially when the sound of gunshots took long to stop.

No one could predict their next target.

I drove the car away. Through the front mirror, my mother's face reflected in my eyes.

She sat quietly in the back seat. Her head tilted to the window. Calmly, she watched the busy view outside. I expected her to look disturbed, stressed, yet to my amazement, her calmness defeated a priest in his prayer.

What a level-headed woman. I never witnessed her lose to the panic.

The corner of my lips bent up and before I made my final exit from the site, I demanded: "What about Evelyn?"

Actually, it was the same question that left my throat when my father appeared to give me the key.

He ignored the query while he insisted that I should take good care of my mother for the time being.

I also asked him the reason why he was staying behind, but he didn't answer. He left me dwelling on my confusion.

"Don't worry about her? I am certain that she is well protected."

There were a lot of questions in the back of my mind, to the point that I have overlooked my mother's confidence about Evelyn's whereabouts or her protection.

Akin to dream, the accelerated events of this evening passed. It dumped me into a sticky swamp of topics, I hated to be in the middle of it.

Questions stormed my foggy head, gunshots, explosion… Who was the shooter? What was his aim? Are they targeting the Olvera or one of their guests?

My heart sank at the last question.

I sighed, relieved…

No suspicious person approached my parents. All the time, I stayed vigilant.

Old grudges, I didn't want to think about them, at this moment.

I shook my head to clear it from all this mess. In the mirror, my eyes stole another glance. The reflection of my mother's face didn't change. The breath stuck up my lungs in fear, asking a question I shouldn't acknowledge.

Our eyes Indirectly met. Her eyebrows relaxed while advising: "Kieran, focus on the road. That moment, I knew, she knew about what I wanted to find.

My concentration all went to the dark road in front. Swallowing back my insecurities. nip by nip.

"Kieran…" In that split of seconds, my eyes slightly shifted, watching her reflection.

"It's not what you think at all."

This tone, I recognized it. The one full of concern to protect my fragile ego by not telling me the truth.

Coaxing the car for further speed, my opportunity for better clarification arrived: "Then why had I chosen to accompany you?"

The speed was high, yet I diverged my eyes to imprison my mother's reflection. Witnessing the indifference as she looked back, her lips twisted, some words refused to leave her throat.

The doubt, the anticipation gnawed at my heart and I accelerated further.

"Didn't you say you knew August?"

Hell, when?

There must be some kind of misunderstanding here. But I just kept silent.

"Your father thought; your presence may melt the ice."

What? From where came this big misunderstanding?

Yes, I knew August, I knew his profile from the far margin, the rumors that wrap his personage. we are not friends, we are not even an acquaintance.

"That's all?" I demanded, suppressing the escalating tension. Even the car speed slowed down.

"Is there supposed to be something else?" In a superficial curiosity, my mother inquired.

My driving became stable, I didn't sneak any glimpse when I answered with "No."

A few more turns and we finally arrived at the main house.

The first one to greet us was Alfred. He stood in front of the main gate. Hands behind his back, along with few guards. Right away, I guessed that the news reached his ears. Fayina emerged from behind him. Waving her hands in happiness, oblivious to the danger in this world. The smile extended to my lips against my will as I observed her getting reprimanded by Alfred and sent back to the house.

Inside the front yard, Alfred, with his index finger, tapped on my window. In response, I let the glass drop, waiting to hear what he had for me to tell.

As calm as my mother, his expression held a suppressed satisfaction.

"Don't worry about Evelyn, she is okay, she came before you a few moments ago with her fiancée."

It bugged me, not what he said, but his terrifying calmness. Maybe he was informed about our well-being.

I sighed in relief before I answered him:

"Good, but how about my father? Why did he stay there?"

Alfred ignored my inquiry and tried to flee to my mother, helping her get out of the car.

Inside, when Evelyn's eyes captured the two of us, she jogged toward us sighing in relief thanking God for our safety.

I expected her fiancée to be also here, however; I was wrong.

She displayed her worries quite frankly. Talkative she became when stressed.

"Kieran?" Pinching my right cheek: "Why didn't you pick up your phone when I called you?"

In defense, I took out my junk phone showing her proof. The battery was dead.

Implying to direct her anger to my mother's policy, I mean, unjustified hate towards using cell-phones.

Instead, she went and hugged her tightly. Asking about her well-being. All concern and fears.

The atmosphere was digestible, supportive after the surprising shock I tasted today. As I had returned to those traumatizing days of my childhood.

Yet, after midnight, my worries bubbled under the mercy of my own demons.

I didn't know how the night had passed, or how I got to my room. And before I could get wrapped in a deep sleep. Memories of my few past days flashed like a burst of lightning; the goodbye, the train, the invitation, the diner, the gunshots, the explosion…

My brain reviewed the events, scene by scene. In a format of a horrifying nightmare. It even mixed more details. Like how I pretended that I didn't see the whispered words. Or the eyes signals flying over my head.

Mother? My presence melts the ice for... exactly... what?

****

No matter how distant the morning was, it came.

The light of the sun burned the resentful inner demons in the hell of forgetfulness. As if they never existed.

Yet this morning wasn't like any morning of the fourteen past days. The short break ended. To the dormitory, to my courses, today, I am preparing for my return.

Aware of this fact, my body acted as sluggish as a donkey, as heavy as a wheat bag. While I packed my things. Fayina's ever childish voice called my name from the floor to the first floor.

"Ki-e-ra-n…. The breakfast is ready."

Human beings are truly strange, how can one sentence send me to the clouds.

The good smell of freshly baked bread guided me to the kitchen where I saw a lot of boxes for storing dishes.

My brother's wife and Evelyn were focused on adding the final touches to the breakfast meal. My mother, the main cook, the supervisor. Her nagging reached my ears. From behind, she ordered: "Don't block the kitchen entrance."

Her mood was as bright as the sun. She turned her attention to Fayina scolding and teaching: "When I send you to call for someone, don't yell their name all over the house," She took a set of doilies, stuffing them into Fayina's hands: "Dear, take this to the table and go to your father study then call for him."

I nodded in affirmation, murmuring: "So my father has come back. I wonder when?"

Another scolding word rained down mother's lips. They were directed at me this time: "Kieran… Don't stand in the way, if you are not going to help."

Her extended hand, trying to reach the teapot beyond my back.

That teapot flew above my intentionally lowered head. Even so, I won an earful: "Get out of here before you cause an accident."

"Sara? Did you prepare the…"

"For whom all those lunch boxes are made for?" Forcibly inserting myself, I cut into the conversation. Yes, we are a big house. Yet all this food and those boxes. This was supposed to be a breakfast, not a dinner party. Are we having some guests?

Hand on my left shoulder, I let my body dragged: " Traditional dishes made especially to suit your taste. For you to take them." A genuine smile painted her face while she expelled me out of her way, and out from the whole kitchen.

The enthusiasm suddenly broke into my body. Exploded happiness in a flare. My head stuck at the entrance expressing immense gratitude. The mouth moved on its own: "Thank you, mum."

"Don't thank me, thank your sister and Sara."

The door was shut, then reopened: "Ah, I need to check the table in the dining room." Mother's obsession with etiquettes amazed me.

Compared to the joy playing in my head, getting banned from the kitchen was nothing.

I danced into the living room ecstatic, only Alfred's sublime presence choked my reasoning back. Holding the TV remote control, his high concentration stole my happiness. Alfred's seriousness floats solely in serious situations.

Watching the morning news. I read the headlines, recalled what happened yesterday. Then I submerged into reality.

What had happened yesterday wasn't a nightmare. Eyes glued to the big screen, the memories rushed from their grave. How could I overlook this matter in the span of hours? An adult I am now. The obligation to start paying attention to the ongoing matters around my life, my family, something I should embrace with a wide chest and an open mind.

*****

"The victim was Miranda Trills, a 24 years old promising new designer and the only child of Patrick Trills, the CEO of SOC-PION. the explosion burned her body dead in her room, in the same hotel where her engagement party to August Olvera was held…

The witnesses reported that they have heard the sound of an explosion from the west direction. And it happened exactly below Miranda's room. The first investigation implies that the cause of the explosion was a technical malfunction that couldn't detect the massive gaze leak. Few individuals were also heavily injured and dozens more escaped with some scratches…"

Unexpectedly, the channel was changed.

"No… " I yelled,

Alfred, who finally noticed my presence, I spotted him maneuvering the remote control. His motive, straight away, I understood it.

Upset, I ran towards him, snatching the tool from his hand. My movement, slick, rapid, and tricky. He only woke up at the voice of the journalist and pictures of last night's explosion when I switched the channel back.

Eager to hear the full report about last night's accident, I didn't notice the concealed hand behind me, stealing back the remote control from me and changing the channel again.

Angry, displeased about this distasteful gesture, I looked behind to discern the identity of the culprit to manifest my objection. And here came the unexpected. The calm, solemn feature of my father. His extended hand holding the remote control.

I swallowed back the mouthful of vexed words I prepared in the past seconds. Sometimes, very aggressive, I became. Especially when someone sat between me and the object of my desire.

His criticizing tone, as serene as the waterfall. No anger hid amidst the clear syllables: "If you really seek the truth about what exactly happened yesterday, you shouldn't listen to the lies that have been fabricated by the men behind the media."

My peaceful and lazy lineaments had changed to a mishmash of confusion and disapproval…

Overlooking what I committed seconds ago, the act that my father has committed against me, the fact I wasn't able to say anything to confront him.

Because deep down, I knew that what he had said touched a portion of reality. The way he used to say it even hit hard. Confirmed my still lingering childishness.

I had the chance to see on more than one occasion how the media had played with the facts to give their stories a completely different ambiance. Yet, an individual, as powerless as myself, as limited as a bird in a cage. From where could I winnow the facts.

Alfred's face reflected into my eyes. Irritation, anger was dart he threw at me. I bet my father's presence denied him the delight of satisfying revenge.

In a blink of an eye, his attention shifted, peered at the entrance of the living room. There, I cached the shadow of Jacob fading from my line of sight.

An intense look momentarily tainted Alfred's visage.

At breakfast, no one touched on the subject of last night. It was like the incident didn't concern us or more like what occurred had never happened at all.

Savoring the aroma of Coffee, I observed the movement of everybody with suspicious eyes.

The feeling of being left in the dark, akin to a needle sting, harmless but irritating. In the end, I decided to eat my breakfast in peace.

This wasn't the first time our house got entangled in those kinds of affairs.

Whether murder, kidnapping, mafia conflict, terrorism… To a point, a dinner party's explosion was a mere routine, like a piece of weekend news about some celebrity scandals.

Maybe this, a consequence of the McCarthy house line of work. Being far for several months, spending some time away living a seemingly normal life, like most normal people. It somehow made me forget about my identity.

Those superficial assumptions, how much I was wrong about them.

****

The next day, the luck smiled wide at my face. I received an offer, rare to come, hard to decline. It made me kiss farewell, the train ticket I booked.

On this one occasion, I betrayed the railway in favor of something better, faster, and neater. My road to the new semester was paved between the high clouds of the sky.

Jacob, my second eldest brother, offered me the opportunity to accompany him since he was tasked with a mission in the same city as my destination. A mission that involved flying in a private helicopter.

Without a second thought, oblivious, I voiced my cheer approval.

The intimidating Jacob, the enigma of the McCarthy, the hardest person to approach, of course, from my point of view.

I found Jacob a carbon copy of my grandfather, not just in temperament, but also in appearance. He rarely offers his services without an explicit demand, yet he also rarely refuses when he gets asked for help.

My closeness to him was limited to the superficial interaction in the morning at breakfast and the evening gathering of a dinner. In between, a speechless exchange danced amidst the void that separated us.

Except in some specific situations, the spectator will uphold the splashed conversation surrounding two awkward individuals, unable to communicate properly, and this was one of those rare occasions.

Compared to Evelyn or Alfred. He is, mostly, a man of few words, better saying a man of actions.

I assumed the source of the problem laid in his silent, very cold personality, the frightening aurora that he emitted making me afraid to even look into his direction.

He sometimes became aggressive in the light of the invisible war of rivalry between him and Alfred. A war that is known to us all except our parents.

Deeply touched by his unexpected offer, I was. The look of pity that stashed under his stern lineaments completely passed through my radar.

Evelyn told me once, this was Jacob's way to voice his concern, to show his affection. I must have instigated a great deal of pity.

***

From above, the sceneries of earth molded a distinct flavor. Next to the window, pleased, I sat, drawing into the sorrowful beauty of existence.

The last time I enjoyed a blissful ride, I didn't remember when. However, perfection in this world was hard to attain.

Other than me, the pilot, which was Jacob. Two people accompanied us.

My wonderful delight sugared a sour flavor of anxiety and awkwardness. My mind tumbled, my thoughts stagnated. Next to me, on my left, I barely felt my shoulder that neighboured August Olvera.

It took me a few minutes to discover that I was the only flustered being on this trip.

The foxy old-man, the owner of the fake smiles at the dinner party, was also with us. I didn't like him, just by looking at him I felt the pain as if my skin was pierced by a thousand needles.

The whole trip surfed on uneasiness, the silent glances were my only companion, no one tried to talk to the other. Apart from a few questions and answers between the pilot and the old man about the distance and high.

Relieved at the sight of the marked spot where the helicopter was supposed to land. I breathed out the accumulated discomfort.

Atop one of the high-rise buildings owned by the Olvera. This was my stop, I recognized the massive building. The park near it was a popular dating spot. More than one time, I invited Anna there. That was how my mind triggered, and I decided to go and give her a surprise visit.


End file.
